[MSN] {Spam?} Baghdad's brave librarian

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from the January 09, 2008 edition -
http://www.csmonitor.com/2008/0109/p20s01-wome.html

Baghdad's brave librarian
Loud talkers, lost books ... and the occasional sniper fire, rocket attacks,
and death threats are what Saad Eskander is up against in rebuilding the
National Library and Archive.
By Tom A. Peter | Staff writer of The Christian Science Monitor
 
Cambridge, Massachusetts

Like most librarians, Saad Eskander, director of the Iraq National Library
and Archive in Baghdad, has to deal with a number of disturbances: people
speaking loudly in the study area, lost books, and the occasional sniper
fire or Katyusha rocket attack.

"Our building was rocketed a few times," says Dr. Eskander, in the same
level tone he might use to describe a trip to the grocery store. "It was
mortared and part of our fence was destroyed.... Stray bullets and sometimes
snipers' bullets smashed some windows as well, including my office."

Though none of Eskander's staff have been injured in these attacks, five
have been killed in sectarian violence, and death threats have displaced
dozens of his 300-plus staffers.

Eskander hardly seemed the Jack Bauer of librarianship as - during a recent
tour of the US - he recounted his experiences in the Cambridge apartment of
his colleague, an archivist at Harvard University. A slight man, Eskander is
soft-spoken and not easily excitable. His wire-rimmed glasses and slick
sports coat belie the stereotype of librarians committing 30-year-old
fashion faux pas. But then again, Eskander is not your typical librarian.

About 20 years ago, he was hunkered in the mountains of northern Iraq with a
band of Kurdish rebels opposed to Saddam Hussein's regime. After a few years
working for their underground newspaper, Eskander, a Kurd, fled to Iran
where he spent several years before finally immigrating to England.

When American tanks rolled over the Kuwait-Iraq border in 2003, Eskander had
lived in England for nearly 15 years. He'd become a citizen.

If he'd wanted, the quiet librarian could have lived the rest of his life
without stepping foot back in Iraq. But in November 2003, he decided to
contribute to Iraq's culture by developing the Iraq National Library and
Archive. The new post not only placed him at the center of a violent
conflict, but the library had been looted and virtually burned to the ground
during the first month of the war. Rebuilding it would prove a massive
undertaking.

. . .

"I heard before visiting the National Library and Archive that it was
damaged, but I did not know the extent of the damage," recounts Eskander. "I
was astonished when I found it in a total ruinous state."

Arsonists trying to destroy potentially damning documents about the Baathist
party burned the building twice within a three-day period, causing
considerable structural damage. Looters absconded with equipment and
furniture, and Iraqis whose family members had disappeared during Saddam's
reign carried off documents that could offer any clue about what happened to
their loved ones. The library lost approximately 95 percent of its rare
books, 60 percent of the archival collections, and 25 percent of the book
collection.

Eskander was also confronted by an unraveling security situation. If ever
there was a place on the proverbial wrong side of the tracks - even by Iraqi
standards - the National Library and Archive was it. It is sandwiched
between Baathist militant strongholds, Al Qaeda hotbeds, and an American
military base. Eskander has watched US helicopters rain down fire on targets
just outside the library.

Even to the south, where the library is flanked by Baghdad's commercial
district, there are regular car bombings.

Aside from obvious safety concerns, the security situation impedes many
aspects of daily life. If there wasn't a war, for example, Eskander's
commute would be less than five minutes. As it is now, it can take over an
hour, if he makes it to the office at all. Military checkpoints create
delays and car bombings can shut down entire roadways. On his longest
commute, Eskander waited at three checkpoints before a car bombing pushed
him on to congested side roads. Fortunately, Eskander, who hates driving,
has a personal driver - not an uncommon luxury in the Middle East - to
navigate the gridlocks.

Security around the library has noticeably improved since late September,
says Eskander. Recent community efforts combined with US and Iraqi military
campaigns have purged many fighters from the area.

Eskander inadvertently attained international notoriety chronicling daily
life in Iraq in a web diary. Several international newspapers even posted
links to it on their websites. He updated the journal from November 2006 to
July 2007, but after nine months, announced its end.

"For sometime now, I have felt deep-down that I have been exploiting the
tragedies and sacrifices of my staff, especially those who lost their
lives," he wrote. "I discovered that by writing the diary I put a very heavy
moral burden on my shoulders; as if I have been emotionally blackmailing the
readers. I do strongly believe that I have no right to do so. I seize this
opportunity to apologize sincerely to everybody."

In Cambridge, Eskander says there was more to his decision to stop writing.
"I was exhausted mentally and psychologically. It's not easy to write about
the suffering of the people you know," he says. "I felt as if I was waiting
for bad things to happen in order to write about them, so this is awful. I
felt guilty, as if I was selling them."

As a librarian, he acknowledges the importance of diarists documenting
history, but feels he's done his part. "This is the diary of someone who
works in the government. We need the views of ordinary citizens who work on
the street," says Eskander.

. . .

In March 2006, Eskander sent his most promising employee, a young web
designer named Ali Salih, to Florence, Italy for training. Eight months
after he returned, a group of four gunmen stopped Mr. Salih's car, forced
him out, and shot him repeatedly in front of his younger sister.

In his diary, Eskander later described the shooting based on an account by
one of Salih's brothers. "The street, the scene of the crime, was very busy
that morning. But no one dare [sic] to intervene," wrote Eskander.

Face to face, Eskander characteristically reveals little emotion recounting
the incident, but smiles warmly when he says, "[Ali] was the symbol of the
new National Library and Archive. He represented modernity and
modernization."

When he first started working at the library, Eskander says, "[the staff]
thought I would leave Baghdad after one or two months, because they thought
the security situation and the extent of the damage [to the library] would
demoralize me."

Nearly four and a half years later, he's still there. Thanks to donations
from several non-government organizations and the Czech Republic, much of
the national library has been restored.

Still, there's always the threat of violence erupting at the library again.
At a speech at the Boston Public Library, someone asked if Eskander is
worried about another attack. He explained patiently that he budgets for
extra guards and ammunition, but it's clear that for Eskander, the value of
a national library far outweighs the risk of losing it again.

"Culture is important, especially secular culture and especially an
institution that documents the cultural and scientific achievements of a
nation," says Eskander. "The country was on the verge of dismemberment and
institutions like us and like the Iraqi Museum could play a role in the fact
that they provide common symbols to all Iraqis. We are not a sectarian
institution; we are a national institution."

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